


Nocturnal by Nature

by WesternRose



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fluff, Gen, Godfather - Freeform, Godfather Alfred Pennyworth, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Harry potter One-Shot, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Hermione Granger-centric, Hope, Hopeful Ending, One Shot, POV Hermione Granger, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Sad Hermione Granger, Short One Shot, Wayne Manor, its going to be okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WesternRose/pseuds/WesternRose
Summary: She had taken a seat on the front steps of the house had taken each letter in delicate hands and absorbed all that she could. Shockingly, the letters were from who had appeared to be her godfather.Bewildered, Hermione read on........
Relationships: Hermione & Alfred, Hermione Granger & Alfred Pennyworth, Hermione Granger & Bruce Wayne, Hermione Granger/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	Nocturnal by Nature

Nocturnal by Nature 

...

She would admit, very, very hesitantly, that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. Considering her background in what she does and doesn’t know, that’s saying a lot. 

Hermione woke up in a cold sweat not even ten minutes before and yet here she is, again, wandering the cold, looming halls of Wayne Manor. The ceiling hung her above her head, so high that the unlit chandeliers became a distant sight that she would have to squint her eyes at to see properly.

Dressed in nothing but a large t-shirt that just only reached her mid-thigh, her bare feet were nearly silent as she padded down the black enshrouded corridors. Her hair was a complete mess, sticking every which way and looking like the frazzled bird nest she knew it was after a fitful sleep. The state of her appearance and dress did not heavily weigh on her mind as she crept into the night. 

The nightmares had been getting better; well; maybe not better, perhaps, but they were becoming less frequent. The bookish girl had used the dreamless sleep potion more often than not after the war, but she knew that she could not depend on it forever. Slowly but surely she weaned herself off of the potion. It was awful and she lost more sleep than she was willing to admit, but these were the steps she knew to be necessary when trying to overcome haunting memories from the past.

Thankfully, after she graduated from Hogwarts, top of her class, she promptly decided that she needed a bit of a break. Harry and Ron were shocked at her spontaneous decision, but she couldn’t blame them for their reactions; for, in a way, she was just as shocked as they were. After giving her warmest regards and the most adamant proof that she would be safe and sound during her journey, she left for the muggle world she’d grown up in. 

Oddly enough, upon visiting her old home, where her parents had once lived happily with her, she thought with a lingering pang in her heart, she had discovered the mail to be stuffed to the brim with several lengthy letters all directed to her father. 

She had taken a seat on the front steps of the house had taken each letter in delicate hands and absorbed all that she could. Shockingly, the letters were from who had appeared to be her godfather. Bewildered, Hermione read on.

Apparently, her godfather had been writing her parents frequently before she had... well... before she did what she had to.

As the letters went on, filled with an elegant aged script, the worry behind his words augmented substantially. His words were ridden with anxiety the more she read, and her hand, shaking without her consent, had a diffuser time grasping the paper as she continued on. By the time she read the last letter, her heartfelt terribly heavy, and her tung became horribly dry. As far as she could tell, her godfather loved her and her parents as much as she loved Harry and Ron. 

The information she’d gathered from the letters consisted of that her godfather’s name was Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth. He lives in Gotham City, he takes care of a man he briefly mentioned in nearly every letter, who the fluffy-haired woman assumes could be his son. This ‘Alfred’ was an intelligent man that enjoys gardening and computer programming, and he seems to have unlimited love for his family. 

Family, she had thought with a sigh, taking a moment to lean against the walls she’d found a home from in childhood. Family by the friendship she understood inside and out like she knew most things, but family by blood? After the bookworm of a witch sent her parents off to Australia, completely oblivious to the daughter they’d given birth to years ago, her heart ached for something solid. She’d begun craving a foundation where she could set down her certainties, but without her patterns, the base of her comfort began to crack under the pressure of what had been her stress-inducing reality. 

After much deliberation over the next couple of weeks, she decided that she would track down her godfather and hope for the best. That was when she informed Ron and Harry of her decision to move. It made her heart tremble, missing her boys, but she knew she would return to them at some point in time. 

When she tracked Alfred through the common tracking spell, the witch was shocked at discovering that he resided in the one and only Wayne Manor, the home of the well known beloved billionaire bachelor Bruce Wayne. Worried that she would be tossed aside without a predetermined knowledge of her visit, she wrote a formal, friendly note to Alfred. After three nail-biting weeks, she received a note back from him which was overflowing with fond, surprised affection. He told her that his master, Mr. Wayne, would be happy to house her during her visit if she wished to visit. Mr. Wayne apparently held Alferd in such high regard that anyone in Alfred's good book was to be welcomed with open arms. 

Packing her bags and stuffing her serpentine nightmares into the recess of her brain through Dreamless Sleep potions, she made her way to Gotham City. Taking the plane rather than appreciating, (for obvious reasons) was an experience she savored. Traveling with her parents to the enchanting country of France is a childhood memory Hermione held dear to her heart. 

As the plane began to land, her heart wildly pounded in her chest. Hands sweaty and hair beyond frizzy, she stared out the small window. The sky was grey and muggish; The sun was just scarcely visible past the pressing, lifeless clouds. The rest of her travels passed by in a blur, such as checking out of the airport and taking the shady cab to the home of her godfather. Arriving at the ostentatious, intimating gate of Wayne Manor, however, would be a picture that she would never forget. 

The substantial metal gate stood proudly in front of her. Reaching some fifteen feet, she could only admire its delicate yet demanding design as it swirled into a swaying W.M. Eyebrows furrowing together like caterpillars, she gently pressed the buzzer. After a minute of awkwardness, the gates let out a grating buzz and swung open in a lofty manner. Squinting her wide eyes, she could put together the form of a smaller man standing at the front doors of the mansion. Hastening her pace, she hurried towards him. 

"Hermione," He called, his used voice cracked as she came closer. Eyes watering and vision blurring, she abandoned her luggage and threw herself at the man she found so familiar and unfamiliar to her. 

"Hermione, my smiling girl," He hushed, his frail arms tightening around her. She buried her head in the front of his pristine suit. They both trembled. 

"Mr. Pennyworth," she sniffed.

He stood back, taking a moment to regain himself.

"No, no, my girl. Please do call me Alfred. I've missed you more than you could know," His sharp, blue eyes flickered over her form. "How you've grown since I saw you last. What a gentle child you were," 

Perking up at this, she tripped over herself to re-retrieve her dropped luggage. 

"Thank you, then, Alfred for letting me stay with you. I know it must have been a shock to hear from me after so long. I am so sorry that your letters were unanswered for so long!"

"All is well as long as you and your parents are safe, my dear," He placed a hand on her back, his eyes crinkling in delight. "I was worried for you all after not hearing back from your mother and father. Are they well?"

Hermione pursed her lips and looked away briefly as they made their way inside. 

"Well, they are, well, currently indisposed."

"How so?"

Pinning her eyes to her boots, she replied, "You see, they relocated to Australia some time ago. They thought they needed a change of pace while I was in school. It was difficult having me be away, you see. I understand completely and I am told they are enjoying themselves to the fullest, so don't worry for them, Alfred." 

Like Hermione, the corners of the old butler's mouth slowly tightened. His grasp on her shoulder tightening, he merrily stated, "Worry I will not, dear girl. I am glad to hear about our loved one's joy. You did briefly mention your schooling, did you not? Where did you attend your education to be away from your parents for so long?"

"Ah, nowhere you would know, I'm sure. the U.K is most different from the States, or so I've heard," She said uneasily. 

He chuckled lightly as they ascended a grandiose staircase. 

"I know a bit more about a great many things than you would assume, my dear." He unlocked a towering oak door and gestured with a kind bow. "This is your room, my dear. Do you make yourself comfortable," His face quickly twitched into a scowl, but soon smoothed out just as swiftly. "Master Wayne is indisposed at this time, but he will soon be available to greet you. He sends his sincerest apologies concerning his absence." 

The women scanned the room, from its king bed made with satin to the windows that made up the southern wall. 

"It's fine!" She gesticulated airily. "Mr. Wayne sounds like a busy man; it's completely appropriate to be here to meet the goddaughter of his butler,"

Alfred shook his head in disagreement.

"Master Wayne and I are close, my dear. Very close. I've raised young Master Wayne. He agreed to greet you at your immediate arrival so this is most troubling to me. It's been so long since I've seen you, and how I've missed you," He shook his head again and made towards her room's exit. "Please let me know if you require anything, my dear. I will be downstairs in the kitchens if you need me. I've business to attend to before we may speak more." 

...

That was all when she first arrived. Now it has been nearly a month and a half and she has yet to meet the illustrious Bruce Wayne. Discomfited, she feels she should be unsettled by this, but her concerns towards the mysteries man are few and far between. The stories of Mr. Wayne's childhood days never failed to make her burst out into eye-watering laughter. The shenanigans he got into made her giggle and chortle; she got to the point where she had to wrap her arms around her stomach to keep herself from falling over from laughter. She felt that she knew Mr. Wayne, and yet, she had never even laid her eyes upon his person.

Alfred had lived up to his Godfather status in such a way that left her weak with joy. So refined and composed, Hermione began to look up to him a great deal during her stay. He learned her favorite sweets and her favorite color, what she liked to do on a rainy day, and how she enjoyed her tea. She got to learn his favorite sport and his favored novels. It almost feels like, she thought, that he had been there with her all along. She knew that the idea was preposterous, but it felt so wonderfully real. She hadn't breathed a word of magic to him during her stay and she was glad for it. One mention of it and the grim possibility of their new familial relationship could come apart at the seams. 

Hermione sighed, taking a seat on the marble staircase. Moonlight, magic, muses of the stars, a poem, a poet, a pillar, and a hopeless plight: ow thought-provoking. Alfred had recommended the story to her, and now she was haunted by it. The nightmare that woke her wasn't by chance, really. The story, the plot, the protagonist, they all struck a chord that she found far too familiar. The torture... 

She shook her head vehemently.

No, she couldn't think of that, at least not right now. This was another world; she shouldn't get lost in the one she was attempting to avoid for the sake of her sanity. 

Tugging at her hair with a growl, she mumbled unintelligibly.

"Can't... Not now... I just..." She whispered.

"Are you alright?" Asked a deep baritone voice.

Her head shot up.

"Bruce Wayne?" She cried, shooting off of the stairs and stumbling backward.

His hand shot out and gripped her forearms tightly, saving her from what could have been a nasty tumble down the stairs.

"Mr. Wayne, I, well, you see I, Mr. Wayne, thank you, I'm-"

"Hermione Granger, I presume. A pleasure to meet you. Please forgive my vacancy from these past weeks. I've been occupied." 

His voice was smooth and pleasant, like a deep, enriching piano melody. Her eyes flicked down from his shadowed face to his chest; he was dressed in pajamas! She was having a conversation with Bruce Wayne, at who knows what time, while they were both wearing their pajamas! Dear Merlin help me, she thought. 

"Mr. Wayne, I am so sor-"

"Don't apologize; I tend to be fairly quiet. I was merely surprised to see you up so late. I returned home earlier this evening when the sky was still dark. I didn't think I would meet you tomorrow." 

"I am so, so, so sorry, Mr. Wayne!" she cried out. "Thank you for your hospitality in letting me stay here. It's been rather lovely! I'm so grateful to have been able to spend so much time with Alfred, it's meant the world to me."

He paused, lips tugging into a quick, show-stopping smile. Dark hair a mess, PJ's ruffled, brooding eyes, and pearly teeth; she was beginning to see what all the fuss around his image was about. 

"You match up with how Alfred's described you. Brightest girl of your age, he said, your schoolmates called you?"

Hermione couldn't help the uncouth snort she let out, hands flying to her mouth.

"Yeah, something like that."

Both standing on the darkened stairs in a world that was neither magic nor muggle, she found herself on another planet. Moonlight was soft on her face and bathed them both in an otherworldly beauty. Lost, so, so lost. She was lost in his eyes, deeper than the darkest cauldron, they were so kind, so welcoming, she could fall into them and never recover. Is this magic? Is he magic, she thought. Could this be a spell leaving me as its willing victim? No, no, that would be outrageous. He is a muggle celebrity whose in the public more often than not, he couldn't possibly be magic. Then if it's not magic leaving her this kind of way, then what could it be. Her hands twisted in the ends of her nightgown tuggingly, distractedly, thoughtfully. 

The billionaire let out a small, well-intended cough. Hermione blinked slowly out of her stupor and shot ramrod straight before jumping three stair steps to the top of the staircase. With a hastening step still in motion towards her room, she threw back a timid grin to the man.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne. You've been so kind to me. Have a good night, sleep well, and, well, I hope your trip was lovely!" 

As she retreated into the dark corridors out of his sight, the hidden hero let himself stand alone for a moment. 

"Hm," He hummed. "This will be interesting." 

...

End.

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot because why not :) Thanks for reading y'all. It means a lot to me<3


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